Dumbledore's Army
by undragonslayer
Summary: Westley discovers he's a wizard and gets up to shenanigans with the next generation and Dumbledore's Army.
1. Chapter 1

Title

Chapter One: The Owl

It happened, as I hear it so often does, on my eleventh birthday, June 28th. A snowy owl was perched on top of my fish tank with a half-eaten beta fish in its beak. Wondering how it got in I quickly noticed the broken window and shattered glass.

Upon seeing me awake it gave a loud hoot, took off and flew gracefully threw the "open" window, fish in tow. Not being very upset about my fish, I picked up the letter that my parents must have left on my bedside table while still puzzling over why an owl was in my room in broad daylight (I like to sleep in).

The letter was entitled thus:

To Mr. Westley Fredrick Roberts

In the United Kingdom

Great Britain

London

Revenge Street

64228th house

Second Floor

First Bedroom

There was a strange emerald seal, which I easily broke and removed the letter inside, which was written in old style parchment.

Dear Mr. Roberts, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We know that this may come as a bit of a shock to you, considering both of your parents are, to the best of our knowledge, muggles. But by completely random chance, you are a wizard. I'm sure you'll have a thousand questions to ask a thousand people. But we will be forced to use memory charms on anyone you tell who is not one of the following; a spouse, a sibling or honestly considered the equivalent of a sibling, a parent or honestly thought of as the equivalent of a parent, a legal guardian, or a biological or adopted child of yours. To satisfy your questions we will send a representative from our school. You will find enclosed a list of supplies, the representative will help you with those.

p.s. Sorry if the owl broke your window, he's still being trained and is having slight difficulties.

Smiling at my parent's joke, albeit surprised that they even broke a window and got a trained owl, I went downstairs. So when I got there, I pretended to ignore the one present that sat on the kitchen table and addressed my parents immediately.

"Did you know that I was a wizard?" I asked, without care for small talk.

"Had no idea," my father stated dryly, still poring over a novel that sat beside his cereal bowl. It wasn't that he didn't care about me, he just wasn't willing to immediately stop what he was doing when somebody interrupted him.

"Well this is exciting news," my mother said more enthusiastically. "Did you make the orange juice I prepared for you float from your nightstand to your mouth or something?"

"No," I replied, surprised that she had suddenly learned how to lie. "I received this letter from an owl that broke my window and ate my fish." I presented her with the letter.

Her eyes widened beyond belief, "Fred!" she said urgently.

"Hold on dear, I'm near a climax right now." My father was of the stern belief that every good book had at least three climaxes. My english teachers all hated him.

My mom snatched his book away and shoved the letter down in its place. Although disgruntled my father knew that it must be important and didn't argue. "Well this is great!" he exclaimed upon reading the first sentence or so. He got up to hug me. "Forget your birthday present, we'll need to get a cauldron, a wand, books, potion ingredients, quills, robes, a hat, maybe even a decent broom! Oh and of course I'll need to fill you in all about the wizarding world! You're going to be a busy boy this summer!"

"Okay, you can stop pretending," I said. "I know you guys wrote up the letter, hired the trained owl and smashed my window. I'm not a little kid, you don't need to patronize me."

My dad laughed while my mother just looked concerned. "Westley, magic is real. Oh I could go into why everybody will disagree but there's time to do that later. Wait. Did you say the owl smashed your window? What kind of shit owl is that?" My dad rambled for a bit. "Anyways, open your present, blow out your candles, best to wait to explain until the representative gets here."

I took his advice, hoping they'd drop it later. But throughout me opening my brand new, and awesome, laptop and blowing out my eleven birthday candles both my parents had a strange smile on their faces. And finally, just as I finished blowing out the candles, the doorbell rang. Expecting surprise relatives I answered the door myself. It was a strange man dressed in strange clothes with strange classes.

He smiled and held out his left hand upside down. I tentatively took it. "How'd I do?" he asked.

"With what?"

"Pleasantries, of course," he replied. "I always get them wrong."

"Well you're supposed to use your right hand and your's was upside down," I informed him. "Oh and you usually say hello, introduce yourself, and ask how the other person is doing."

"Well Iat least 'm improving," he said lightly. "It all just seems made-up and pointless to me."

"I know what you mean," I replied. "Personally, I never bother with pleasantries."

"I didn't know there were muggles who didn't do pleasantries," he said and I suspected his eyes were wide but his glasses were completely opaque. "However you were right about introductions. I'm Rolf Scamander, and when I'm not traveling I'm teaching Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are Mr. Westley Roberts, I presume?"

"Yes," I said. I was getting rather tired of the whole charade and was about to say so when he bent over and inspected my forehead.

"Head shock-full of nargles. But we'll soon fix that."

"Is it uncle John?" called my father.

"It's the supposed representative from the school." I replied

My dad knocked over his chair and left the knife half in the cake as he rushed to the door. "Hello Mr...?"

"Rolf Scamander," the strange man supplied.

"Scamander. I'm Westley's dad. We were very pleased and surprised to receive the letter. Please come in."

The strange man walked into our house and took a seat in the middle of the widest couch. "Before you begin I must correct your letter," my father started the conversation. "It assumed that both my wife and I are muggles, I however am a squib."

"Oh, my mistake." Mr. Scamander apologized. "So I should just give you your train ticket and leave, huh?"

"Uh no," my father answered. "We did not tell Westley about magic because we did not want him to expect to be a wizard, so he remains unconvinced that we're even telling the truth. We could use some convincing."

"Of course," he agreed. "I assume the owl broke your window. Allow me to fix that." He hurried upstairs, into my bedroom, over the hill of dirty clothing and stopped near the pile of broken glass. He pulled a long, wooden, carved stick out of his robes and pointed it at the broken window. "reparo!" he cried. The shattered glass picked itself off the floor fit itself perfectly into how it had been before it was broken. And finally all of the spider-webbed cracks faded into a perfectly clear, unbroken window.

"Here's your train ticket, all the info's on it," he handed me an average looking train ticket that claimed I was to leave from platform nine and three quarters. "Good-bye!" With that he vanished into thin air with a loud crack. The window promptly fell apart behind him.

**Please leave comments, compliments, insults, and constructive criticism as a review.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Supplies

A week later my dad brought me to central London to go school shopping. I was somewhat wary, I wasn't entirely convinced yet. Although my dad had been mentoring me on the Wizarding World and I could not yet find a hole in his stories. The cab stopped in front of a small corner pub named The Leaky Cauldron.

We got out with and walked inside. I didn't notice at the time, but everybody walking by didn't even seem to notice us or the pub. "I still remember coming here," my dad said nostalgically.

"I thought you were a squid and couldn't use magic?" I recalled from his lessons.

"Squib," he corrected. "Yes but I still passed through here with my parents to get house-supplies and things for them. And there're things here that would appeal to even muggles."

We weaved through the mess of mostly empty tables and ended near the back next to a giant brick wall. My dad lightly tapped on one of them near the center, and the bricks around that spot began to slowly and noisily slide backwards to form a huge open arch. On the other side was a bustling street filled with people dressed nearly as strangely as Rolf Scamander. And shops even stranger.

"Okay, first, most important, and most time-consuming to aquire is a wand. But to pay for it we'll need wizard-money. So to Gringotts it is then." We walked straight through the street, not paying attention to the attention our out-of-place muggle clothes earned us. At the end there was a giant gray building.

At the entrance we were stopped by a short man with wrinkled skin. I guessed he was one of those house-elves my father had told me about. "Wands for identification," he held out his hand.

"I'm a squib and my son doesn't have a wand yet," my father explained.

The house-elf quickly passed a golden rod over us. "Proceed."

Inside the hall was filled with the house-elves. "I forgot to tell you Gringotts is run by goblins," my dad whispered.

I mentally adjusted my view of them slightly, to fit this new information. We walked into one of the lines off to the side and waited for less than two minutes before being served. "What do you need?" the goblin behind the counter asked.

"I need to exchange British muggle money for Wizarding Standard Currency," My father said, holding out a thick stack of bills and coins.

"Okay, hold on for a few seconds." The goblin counted the money, set it to the side, opened a drawer and started counting out gold, silver and bronze coins. "You two know the system?"

"I've forgotten," my father acknowledged.

"17 silver Sickles to a gold Galleon and 29 bronze Knuts to a Sickle," he said quickly. "Your money equals 133 galleons 5 sickles and 10 knuts. Spend wisely."

My father packed it away into a small bag which never should have been able to fit that many coins and should have been far heavier than it seemed. And then it was off to the wand-shop.

The sign above it was too old to read, but my father told me it was "Ollivander's." Inside there was just an older guy and a younger one. I guessed that they were father and son.

"Which one of you is in need of a wand?" the younger one asked.

I raised my hand slightly. The young man didn't say another word but snatched a tape measure off of the counter and began measuring every aspect of my face, arms, legs, fingers and torso. Occasionally the old guy would rasp something which the younger one would acknowledged but I couldn't understand him. I guessed the older guys was mentoring the new Ollivander.

The two rushed/hurriedly-hobbled into the back. They both came back with a stack of white boxes. The young one opened the one on the top of his stack and pulled out what I guessed was a wand. It was finely crafted and about twelve inches long. Young Ollivander said "eleven and a half inches long, flimsy, unicorn hair core, holly." he held it out to me.

I took it carefully, holding it by what was evidently the handle.

"Well are you gonna wave it?" Old Ollivander rasped.

So I waved it, and a huge blast of noise issued from the end and the counter caught on fire.

"No." Father and son said at the same time. Old Ollivander handed me a wand this time, ignoring the fire. "eleven inches, dragon heartstring core, slightly bendable, red oak," Young Ollivander explained to me. I wove and this time, there was no sound, and the dying fire flared.

"Closer," they agreed. Young Ollivander presented me with an extremely short wand. "seven inches, rigid, dragon heartstring, elk antler," he said.

And when I wove it this time, the fire was extinguished. "Almost!" they cried in excitement. It took them nearly two minutes to decide on a wand to give me next. "Nine inches, rigid, phoenix feather core, redwood," he said this time, barely able to contain his excitement.

I wove it and it issued song as well as coated the floor with green flame that immediately died. "Perfect!" the mentor and apprentice high-fived, extremely loudly. "That wand, will suit your needs better than any other. It may take a month or two to bond with you, but after that it will always serve you and you alone. Phoenix-feather cores are very loyal and picky about their wizards. You're a lucky boy."

My father paid seven galleons for it and we left. "He was talking like wands are alive," I stated while admiring my new magical tool.

"Most wandmakers believe that they can transfer allegiances and will learn from you so to speak. It is well accepted that it is easier to use an old wand than a new one."

Most of the rest of shopping was boring, other than the names of the shops. I got fitted with robes and a winter cloak from Madam Malkin's, bought books (all of which looked interesting) from Flourish & Blotts, got a cauldron and potion supplies at the apothecary, and a suitcase which was seven times bigger on the inside and would reduce the weight of your belongings by up to one hundred pounds. Finally we arrived outside the Magical Menagerie.

"We'll need owls to communicate with each other," my father said, stepping into the shop.

"You can't just get me a mobile?" I asked ruefully.

"I'm not even sure if electronics work at Hogwarts," he said while examining the different owls. "Pick one out, I'll get it for you."

I decided on a slightly small hawk owl mostly because the sign said hawk owls are the fastest, but he was also getting picked on by all the other owls in his cage, and I felt bad for him. My father got a gigantic great horned owl so he wouldn't have to wait until I wrote to him for him to write back.

The rest of the summer passed slowly, except for when I was reading my textbooks. The most interesting one was by far, _A Theory of Magic_. Closely followed by _The Standard Book of Spells: Year One_.

**Please leave comments, compliments, constructive criticism, and insults in the form of a review.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Sorting

September first finally came and I was up at four in the morning just to make sure I would be on time. I sprang out of bed, made sure my owl (whom I had neglected to name) had come in last night from hunting, and began packing. My robes and school supplies (other than the few books I had decided to read) were still inside the suitcase I had gotten, so I just had to throw in a few clothes, my reading books, and my laptop.

I walked downstairs, and had two doughnuts for breakfast. At six in the morning my family piled into our tiny car and set out for Kings Cross. My father refused to reveal to me or my mother how platform nine and three quarters was kept a secret from muggles, but he assured us that it was awesome.

The ride was uneventful. But as soon as we stepped into the train station I could tell that there were other wizards and witches there. Hundreds of people were milling about, drawing stares from muggles. They were all dressed in horribly outdated and mismatched clothes, and some had neglected to dress as a muggle at all. I saw one man with a large beard wearing a Hello Kitty T-shirt and parachute pants.

My father directed us towards the platform, where the crowd of magical folk grew thicker. We stood about halfway between platforms nine and ten. My dad pointed surreptitiously towards the barrier three quarters of the way between the two. No more than a second or two passed by when I saw an entire family sprinting towards it. But when they hit it, rather than screaming in pain, they just passed straight through. Although they didn't appear on the other side.

"You just have to run through it, just like they did," my dad said.

"Don't the muggles notice it?" I asked.

"It's enchanted so that they don't notice it unless they already know the truth about magic," he explained.

"Well, looks like it's our turn," my mother said.

I nervously started running towards it without replying. At first determined to keep my hands down I forgot about that as I came within a foot of it. Thankfully as I collided with it I found myself in the most wonderful train station I'd ever seen. Everybody here was dressed ridiculously, and many had wands and owls on display. I quickly took mine out of the suitcase where I'm sure he was stifled. Sitting on the tracks was a beautiful scarlet steam engine, into which children were piling on, dragging their luggage with them.

My parents were now on either side of me. Mother in particular seemed awed, although my father did seem duly impressed. We stopped walking near one of the doors.

"Well I guess this is goodbye," my father and mother said, slightly out of sync with each other, and then hugged me.

"Goodbye then," I said, hugging them in return.

My mom began crying softly but my dad was smiling. "I never thought that you would be a wizard," he admitted. "But here you are. Go on and learn to be the best there is." He clapped me on the shoulder and turned me around gently, encouraging me to go.

The last few inhibitions I had disappeared and I strolled calmly, but with huge anticipation, towards the train door. I walked in, and entered the hallway. It took me a minute or two to find an empty compartment, but when I did I sat down, took out a book, and read. Although I wasn't really reading, of course. How could I when I was off to a magical boarding school?

Just a few moments later the door opened and in walked three other students. From what I could tell they were also first years. "Can we sit in here?" one asked. He had messy hair, brown eyes and crooked glasses. "All the other compartments are full, and you look more agreeable than all the other people we'd have to sit with."

I realized they were a group. "Thanks, and of course. I don't know if I could stand being alone for the whole ride anyways."

"Thanks mate," the other two said in unison. They looked identical with short blond hair and sharp blue eyes. "We're Lorcan and Lysander Scamander. We're twins, you might as well think of us as the same person. We're rarely apart." They each offered me a hand to shake at the same time. I took one with my left, and one with my right.

"And I'm James Potter," the other said, and offered only one hand to shake.

"I'm Westley Roberts," I said.

They each shoved their things on the overhead rack (the Scamanders shared a suitcase) and sat down. Silence ensued for just a few seconds before James talked. "So what house are you hoping for, Westley?"

I thought for a moment. "I have no idea what you're talking about," I concluded.

"Ah, so you must be a muggle-born." I decided not to correct him. "Hogwarts has two houses, which we'll be sorted into somehow. I don't know how, nobody's parents has told them. Anyways they are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Gryffindors are brave, noble, and chivalrous. Ravenclaws are really smart, but not everyone smart is in Ravenclaw. It's just when their intelligence outshines all their other qualities. Slytherins are very good at scheming. And Hufflepuffs are hardworking and loyal. Personally I want Gryffindor. Both my parents were in it, it's the best at Quidditch, and I think its got the best qualities."

"Well I don't know much about Quidditch, and I noticed you slanted Slytherin's description to make them sound evil, when you really just mean they're good at making plans. Which makes them all sound okay to me," I replied. "Except for Hufflepuff," I added.

"Oi!" The Scamanders objected. "Our dad was in Hufflepuff. But it is a generally lame house," they admitted. "We're hoping for Ravenclaw, like our Mum."

Throughout the rest of the ride, which lasted all day, they told me everything they knew about the school, Quidditch, and the wizarding world in general. I learned that James was the son of the most famous wizard in the world. His father had taken on a dark wizard who threatened to take over the entire world when it seemed certain that Voldemort would win. After lunch we decided to try to do magic.

We had all read the spell book, but only I had read about the theory, so I felt pretty confident. The book said that levitation charms are the simplest, so we tried that on our chocolate frog wrappers. After nearly half an hour of shouting and waving, the other three had only accomplished making their wrappers wriggle. While mine had floated nearly an entire centimeter off of the table before it caught on fire, shriveled up, and disintegrated.

"You four should change into your school robes," a girl called from the hallway. "We'll be at the castle soon."

"Alright Victoire." James said. "But just because you think you're going to be a prefect, doesn't mean you get to boss us around _now_."

She walked off, ignoring him.

We changed and suddenly I began to wonder if people thought Slytherin was evil. I asked the three wizards in my compartment.

"Well," James began. "Not anymore, really. It used to be that only purebloods would get in and all the Slytherins were really mean and just pricks in general. And while it's still true that they cheat occasionally, the people in it are apparently a lot nicer and my cousin Ted says that there are a lot of half-bloods and even a few muggle-borns in it now. They've just got a bad reputation for becoming dark wizards and such. But in fairness, the other houses have produced a few dark wizards too."

Lorcan and Lysander suddenly became very animated. They took out a whiteboard from their suitcase, which suddenly expanded to the size of the table. It was laid down on the table. The twins took out two red markers and suddenly began writing furiously on it in illegible handwriting.

"What are you doing?" I asked. They didn't respond.

"They do this every once in awhile," James said. "They're genuises. Whenever they need to solve a problem they take out their enchanted white board and scribble on it until they reach a conclusion. They once calculated the size of the Atlantic Ocean by making Luna keep the waves in their area still, dropping a rock in it, and measuring the displacement. I couldn't even see the difference, but apparently their measuring tape could. They were only off by a few thousand tons, which for an ocean, is nothing."

True to his word, in a few minutes, they stopped writing and stared at their work. "The Chudley Cannons are going to win the Quidditch Cup this year," they declared.

"Apparently they're not as smart as I thought," James conceded. "The Chudley Cannons haven't won in over a century."

A castle appeared in the distance. "Is that Hogwarts?" I asked with excitement.

The other three crowded around the window. "I think so, mate," Lorcan said, without Lysander.

In just a few minutes the train came to a stop next to a lake. On the other side was a gigantic stone castle. Its sections seemed so random it was like the builders were designing it as they went along. But it was beautiful nonetheless.

We fought our way through the crowd outside the train. The strange man who had came to my house was waving a lantern and shouting: "First years this way, get into the boats with three other students!"

I remembered his last name was Scamander. Now that I thought of it he did look a lot like the twins. The four of us climbed into a wooden boat moored the oldest and ricketiest dock I have ever seen. In due course we were joined by the rest of the first years, well over a hundred of them, and Mr. Scamander. As if the boats knew everybody was there, they untied themselves from the docks and began sliding slowly across the lake.

"We've got a giant squid in the lake," Mr. Scamander shouted to be heard. "He's particularly fond of scaring first years, so don't be worried if your boat shaked a little or you see something skimming through the water." I couldn't tell whether he was kidding or not.

Halfway across the lake eight boats rocked in unison, causing nearly everyone to scream. Mine was one of them, I didn't scream but I did panic, grab the sides of the boat, and duck, as if that would help. I rarely scream when I'm scared, it's just not how I express myself.

The boats slid under a rocky overhang and entered a kind of underground harbor. We got out of the boats, which started sailing back the way they came, and were led into a great hall. The rest of the school had passed through there, the floor was completely covered with dirt. We then entered a small room to the side of a huge pair of doors.

We were all too scared to talk but Mr. Scamander held up his hand for silence anyways. "I am Rolf Scamander. In just a few moments you will pass through that door and be sorted in one of four great houses. Unfortunately our hat has grown too old to sing, so I must tell you about each house myself. Hufflepuff, of which I am Head, is for the loyal and hardworking. Gryffindor, of which Neville Longbottom is Head, is for the brave. Ravenclaw, of which Luna Scamander is head, is for the wise. And Slytherin, of which Forest Drile is head, is for the cunning. Each house has a glorious past, has glorious students, and whichever you are put in will suit you best. Once you are sorted go sit with your house for a feast. Come along then."

He opened the door and we filed into a huge dining room. We were up on a stage with a long table of teachers, slightly below were four even longer tables of students. An old hat sat on a wooden stool in between the teacher's table and the student's.

"Are we just supposed to put on the hat?" a few people whispered.

Answers ranged from: "I guess so," to: "Don't be ridiculous."

Mr. Scamander took a scroll out of the sleeve of his robe and called out the first student, I was much too nervous and tired to remember any names. Rolf placed the hat on her head, where it sat for a moment before it opened at the brim, and shouted "Ravenclaw!" Rolf directed her towards the Ravenclaws and called the next student.

First to be called of my new friends and I was James. He sauntered up to the stool with a grin, pretending not to be nervous. The hat had barely touched his head before it declared him a Gryffindor. He held up his wand which issued sparks and a bang and ran to his table.

Soon it was my turn. Everybody watched as I received the hat and sat down. All the noises seemed to drain away as the hat spoke to me. "Such an interesting head," it mused. "The only house you don't belong in is Hufflepuff. Oh you like to hear that, don't you? I suppose that makes you slightly more Slytherin than the others, that's where I'll put you, unless you object?"

I thought slightly about James in Gryffindor but figured I'd see him around anyways and I'd make other friends in my house. "Slytherin!" It cried as I finished thinking. With shaking hands and sweating palms I returned the hat to Mr. Scamander, and walked to my table.

Directly after me were the Scamanders. Lorcan was called first, but Lysander went up with him. Mr. Scamander shook his head but didn't object. After nearly a minute he was declared a Ravenclaw. But instead of sitting down he waited for Lysander to be sorted as well. After only half a minute this time, Lysander was also a Ravenclaw. And together the twins sat down.

At this point I was nearly falling asleep and couldn't remember anything of the opening speech or feast. Other than that the food was ridiculously delicious, and I'm a notoriously picky eater.

Finally we were led down into the dungeons and to a brick wall which opened when the word "Parselmouth" was spoken. On the other side of the wall was a large room illuminated with green light through the windows which opened out into the lake. One entire wall was covered with books. High backed chairs were strewn across the room but mostly around the windows.

Other students shuffled into their old dorms, while a prefect led us to ours. The walls were covered with tapestries depicting wizards and witches battling various creatures as well as each other. What really amazed me was that they were moving. I found my stuff and chose a random room which was shared with four other boys. The beds were all identical four poster beds with silver and green blankets. I chose the one closest to the window.

Too tired to even change into my pajamas, I slipped under the covers and fell asleep.

**Thank you for reading, please leave comments, compliments, constructive criticism, and insults in the form of a review.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: School

The first class I had was charms. Classes were organized by house, and thankfully about half of them were shared with the Gryffindors. So I got sit with James before either of us had made any other friends within our own houses. Sadly, Mrs. Scamander announced that for the first few weeks we would just be learning magical theory and proper wand techniques. All of the other classes went along the same lines, except for potions.

Professor Drile barely introduced himself before he directed us to get our cauldrons out.

"All of your other professors are probably making you wait," he said as we readied ourselves. "But I think that that's rubbish. I need to get you interested in my class so I'll do the theory and techniques slowly throughout the year.

"Today we'll begin to brew a potion that will cure acne. It's creatively named Cure For Boils. Directions are on page 58 of your textbooks. I'll be around giving tips and checking to make sure you're doing it right. Ingredients are on your table," he left his desk. "Oh, and do it with a partner."

Me and James grabbed each other as partners and began. It seemed remarkably simple at first, just follow the directions. But after accidentally adding one extra snake fang, we realized how precise we had to be, the potion blew up and set my hair on fire. We spoiled it three more times after that and finally two minutes before class ended, we reached the final step. Now we had to let it brew for twenty-four hours.

"Ah, congratulations, boys," Professor Drile said from behind us. "You're only the second pair to get to this step all day. Your and those Ravenclaw twins of Luna's. Frankly I'm surprised anybody was able to do it without a proper understanding of everything that can ruin a potion."

The day ended with potions being the only interesting class of the day. At dinner I began talking with Philip Higgs, who was a halfblood who'd grown up in the muggle world, about how strange and different the wizarding world was.

That night I noticed a sign on the Slytherin bulletin board advertising something called Dumbledore's Army. But all it said was that they were recruiting, with no contact information.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Dumbledore's Army

A month passed and the only spell we had learned was a sparking charm. But I had gotten my levitation charm almost perfect. The only problem was that the object I was levitating would occasionally catch on fire or explode. But that didn't happen most of the time.

I had looked up Dumbledore's Army in the library and asked everybody who could be considered a friend, but all anybody knew was how it was created and that they were recruiting. Finally when James, Lorcan, Lysander and I were discussing it yet again Ted Lupin (who was apparently related to James somehow) overheard and came over.

"You want to know how to get in?" he asked immediately.

"It would help to know what it is, first," I said.

"Well I can't say much," he said, a little nervously. "But they help the school and its members."

"So how would one go about getting in?" James questioned.

"The Recruiters notice who's doing exceptionally," he began. "And they make suggestions to the Chosen Ones, and they personally observe the subjects, and finally the best are accepted. That's all I can say."

"What criteria are they looking for?" I asked.

"They accept the exceptional. That's as specific as I can be," Ted apologized. "Well I've got to get to Defence Against the Dark Arts. See you kids later."

"We're going to get in," the Scamander twins said in unison. "All four of us."

Over the next week I made an extra effort in my classes as well as my private efforts at spellcasting. On one occasion in the common room I was attempting to hold my book up in front of me with magic I thought I noticed a fourth-year staring at me, but they took little notice of me the rest of the night.

My suspicions that I was being considered were all but confirmed when Ted himself sat down in the back of my potions class one day. Professor Drile had been teaching us all the most important techniques in order to prepare us to make a difficult awakening potion. We were told it was a lot like a muggle energy drink, or coffee.

James and I were very careful to mix all the ingredients exactly as they should be. Most of the steps had to be completed within a certain time limit and so that just added to our worries. And so we were relieved when at the end of class, our potion was one of the few that was potent. Professor Drile even held a flask of it in front of the class and said it was some of the best work he'd seen from first-year students.

According to the Scamander twins Ted had been in their class as well. Still, none of us heard from Dumbledore's Army.

On Halloween we finally got around to doing some actual spell work in charms class. I noticed a seventh year sitting next Professor Scamander's desk, staring intently out at the class. Luckily for us four, the spell we were doing was a levitation charm, which we had all but mastered since our train ride together. Although Lorcan and Lysander were not in our charms class, we felt confident that they would do well.

Finally, two days later, I was enjoying breakfast with Philip when a tiny screech owl dropped a note on my plate.

**From the Chosen Council of Dumbledore's Army**

**To Westley Roberts of Slytherin**

** To anybody but you, this paper will appear blank. When next alone, sign below and the rest of this note will be revealed to you. Signing will also magically bind you to not tell anybody the information you receive without the express permission of the Chosen Council.**

**Sign here:_**

"Just a blank note," I showed it to Philip.

"Must be invisible ink," he conjectured. "You should get one of the older students to use a revealing spell on it."

"I'll do that," I replied and stuffed the note into my robes.

I finished breakfast early and hurried down to my dorm. Even though nobody was in the room I drew the curtains on my bed and cast an ineffective muffliato curse. After hastily taking out a quill I signed my name and watched as the rest of the note bled out of the paper.

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the D.A. Which stands for Dumbledore's Army, or Defence Association. Depending on preference and convenience. As a member of Dumbledore's Army you can be (but will not be forced to) instructed in magic past the school's belief of your ability, as well as instruct those who are less skilled than you. However seeing as you are a first-year the latter scenario is unlikely to exist. You may also participate in games and activities that will hone your abilities. You may vote on existing positions in the command structure of the Army, as well as run yourself. Other benefits of being in the army may arise. The only activities you would be forced to participate in are defending the rights of students, this may involve violence on occasion, and pretending that you are not part of the army to those not in it, unless instructed by the Chosen Council to do otherwise. If you wish to be a part of this noble organization please send this note back, surreptitiously please, with an owl. We will send another note back that includes the time and place of our next meeting. If you choose not to join, do nothing and remember that if you tell anybody not presently in the Army that we contacted you your face will erupt in boils that are extremely hard to remove and your tongue will be plagued by sores that make it very difficult to eat.**

**Signed,**

**The Chosen Council**

I immediately stuffed the note back into my robes and rushed to the owlery. After giving the note to my still unnamed owl and seeing her fly off I began walking back to the dungeons, hoping to get some reading in before beginning practice on the _lumos_ charm with James. However on the way down the Great Staircase I ran into him.

"Did you get a blank note at breakfast?" he asked immediately.

"Yes," I said, slightly out of breath. "Did you sign it yet?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed. "I just came back from the owlery giving them my reply."

"So did I, we must have missed each other by just a few minutes."

Later that day we found that the Scamanders had also been accepted.

The next few days were torture as I waited to hear from the D.A. My owl had come back, but with no reply. Finally Ted Lupin walked by me in the hallway and slipped me a note instructing me to meet him on the seventh floor corridor opposite the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy that night after dinner. Classes that day dragged even more than usual. I got five points taken from Slytherin for falling asleep and spilling my potion.

That night I made my way from the dungeons to the seventh floor, it wasn't after curfew yet but I still felt nervous. Ted was sitting on a windowsill, pretending to write an essay for transfiguration. I tapped him on the shoulder and he wrote "walk up and down this hallway three times thinking about needing to meet with the D.A. A door will appear, we meet in there."

I begrudgingly followed the instructions, and to my surprise, a door did appear on the wall opposite Barnabus' tapestry. The door opened silently and easily. Inside there was a wide open space, almost the size of a cathedral, lining the walls were spellbooks and strange magical instruments. And spread throughout the room were the members.

They were of all different houses and genders, although there seemed to be a slight underrepresentation of Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. Some of them, I knew, and others looked totally unfamiliar. The only thing that they all seemed to have in common was that they were all students, there were no teachers.

On the other side of the room, on a slightly raised platform, stood James, Lorcan and Lysander, along with a few sixth and seventh years. When they spotted me one of the seventh years beckoned with his wand. I obediently went to stand with them.

"Welcome, Westley," he said. "I'm Louis Weasley, and I'm head of the Chosen Council. Which, as you may have been wondering, is chosen through a democratic system in which all members may vote. You four are the newest editions and must be coronated. Well I think everybody's here, and I don't mind a few people being late anyways."

Louis raised his wand "Ignisicrepidus!" His wand issued a colorful, and noisy, explosion. Everybody quieted down immediately. He raised his wand to his throat. "Welcome to the first meeting of Dumbledore's Army in the 2012 school year!" he said with an unnaturally loud voice to much applause. "First things first, we have some new members who need join. This is Lorcan and Lysander Scamander, twin sons of the most lovely Professors Scamanders! Here is James Potter, son of the most talented Boy Who Lived and former seeker for the Holyhead Harpies, Ginny Weasley! And finally, Westley Roberts. The first known magical son of a squib!" he introduced each of us to even more applause. "You four can go stand in the crowd." As we joined the rest of the Army below the Council it seemed that everybody wanted to shake our hands or give us a highfive.

"And lastly, we have some exciting news about our status as a school club," the room immediately fell silent, I could tell they were anticipating something. "After last year's fiasco with the Fanged-Frisbees and the Ton-Tongue Toffees we managed to slip to each and every teacher, we are _finally_, no longer a school-sanctioned club!" This news brought the loudest round of applause yet. "So, it's the first day, go practice some spells, and be nice to the new guys!"

It was great, the rest of the meeting was like all of the classes rolled into one, except much more productive and practical. I was dueling James the entire time while older students shouted tips as they ran past, dodging their partner's jinxes. By the end of class I had already master the Tickling Jinx and was well on my way to being proficient with the Jelly-Legs Curse.

Eventually the meeting ended as curfew came and passed. They only allowed four of us to leave every five minutes so we could keep the location of the meetings a secret. I left with the only other three Slytherins in the group. A sixth year on the Chosen Council named Felice Blishwick, a fifth year, and the fourth-year I had suspected of spying on me. Felice place Chameleon charms on all of us so it would be hard to see us. Before I walked into my dorm, Felice handed me a galleon.

"When it grows warm check the words around the edges, they'll tell you when the next meeting is," she instructed.

I snuck into bed as quietly as I could, and luckily nobody woke up. All I did that night was replay the duels me and James had had. Luckily it was a Friday and all I had the next day was Flying Lessons in the afternoon.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Flying

I slept straight through breakfast and so I was starving by lunchtime. At the Slytherin table it seemed that everyone was either bragging about how wonderful they were at flying, or brooding silently and lamenting that they thought they would probably fall off their broom that afternoon. We had our first flying lesson that afternoon and in truth, I was nervous. But I tried not to let it get to me and enjoy my food.

Finally, after even Philip had joined the bragging, I got fed up and went over to the Gryffindor table to escape from my own house. Sadly the same thing was going on there, except instead of brooding people were openly worried. So after a few minutes I left James and went to sit with the Scamanders.

"Hey, Westley," they said in unison without looking up from a giant sheet of parchment covered in scribbles.

"Where's your food?" I asked.

In response they reached down to their laps and stuffed a few french fries in their mouths.

"So what're you doing?" I asked.

"Well we already know the Chudley Cannons are most likely going to win this year's Quidditch Cup," they began. "But we're trying to calculate the exact probability, so we can bet an appropriate amount of money."

After coming to Hogwarts, I had become immensely interested in Quidditch, although I had never seen it played. I had read ten books on strategy and rules. And then I started following updates in the_ Daily Prophet_. So I knew that the Chudley Cannons had a predictably bad team this year, and their chances of winning were negligible. "Have you seen their player roster?" I asked them.

"Yes," they replied as Lorcan added a scribble to the paper that was evidently meant to a number. "They all suck. But their coach is Odis Bagnold, and he is ridiculously good at strategizing."

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. "You must sit with your house," said Professor Drile. "It's okay to go and say hello for minute or two, but you may converse with your friends from other houses elsewhere."

I was surprised. Professor Drile was usually very lax with enforcing rules. But I went back to the Slytherin table.

"So how do you reckon you'll do?" someone asked me as I sat down.

"Never flown before," I admitted. "So I have no idea."

Later that afternoon I stood amongst a mix of Slytherins and Gryffindors on the Quidditch Pitch. Elodia Umfraville, the Sports Master at Hogwarts, approached the group with about seventy broomsticks in a huge bag dragging behind her. "Everybody choose a broom, they're all Comet 290s."

James and I rushed to get the best ones. As he had flown before he just grabbed the best two he could find and handed one to me. "Comet 290s are ancient," he whispered to me, so Madam Umfraville wouldn't here. "They can only do sixty miles an hour. Any decent broom can do at least 150, these days."

"Line up," Madam Umfraville ordered. "Slytherins on my left, Gryffindors on my right. Set your broom down under your wand hand. On my whistle, say 'up!'"

The whistle blew and I commanded my broom; "up!" It flew, a little lazily, into my outstretched hand. I looked around and it seemed I was the only one who had never flown before whose broom had actually done it. James and plenty of others who grew up in the wizarding world had succeeded. But they probably did it on a daily basis when they were at home.

"If it hasn't worked already, just pick it up, we can work on it later," Madam Umfraville commanded. About half of the class bent down to pick their brooms up. "Now mount your broomstick." She demonstrated where to sit and how to properly hold the handle.

"On my whistle, hop just a little bit, and stay floating where your broom stops. Don't go anywhere," she gave the entire class a murderous look.

Once again the whistle blew and jumped, what normally would have only lifted me half a foot. The broom rose quickly through the air and came to rest about three feet off the ground. I was not the highest and I was not the lowest. James was ten feet above me, Philip was a foot below me, and several people had simply fallen back to the ground.

After a few minutes when everybody was in the air, we were practicing going up and down. And then class ended. All in all, it was really boring. The only interesting part was during that first jump, when for a moment I was panicking.

I walked, disappointed, with James back to the castle. We discussed how boring class had been.

"You know, we should just sneak into the broom closet tonight and try one of those out for real," James suggested.

"Wouldn't Filch Jr. catch us?" I asked.

"Not if we used those silencing charms we've been working on, and we could probably get an extremely bad chameleon charm on our robes," he replied.

That night at eleven o'clock I got out of bed, cast a silencing charm on my shoes and my robes, and then attempted the chameleon charm. It didn't appear as if anything about them had changed. I decided to meet up with James and see if he had done any better.

I opened the dorm door silently and exited the common room. Upstairs in the Entrance Hall, James was already waiting. I stifled a laugh as I saw his robes were bright pink. Without speaking, so as not to get caught, we snuck out the great doors and onto the lawn. We made our way towards the Quidditch Pitch where the Broom Closet was.

The door was locked. "_Alohomora," _I whispered. The door clicked. James opened it to reveal the hundred Comet 290s.

"At home I have Nimbus 3000," James said. "Well, I share it with Albus and Lily. Thankfully neither of them know how to fly yet."

James carefully selected what he found to be the best brooms, although I couldn't tell what he was looking for. I nervously walked into the middle of the pitch with James at my side and mounted the broom. James shot into the air and beckoned me to join him. I jumped and this time urged my broom to continue rising until I was level with James at twenty feet.

"All that crap she's teaching you during class," James advised. "Forget it. Flying is almost entirely instinct. It's not mechanical like Umfraville wants you to believe."

I thought about this for a second, and suddenly shot at James. He moved out of the way just in time, I missed him by a centimeter.

"Oh so you want to do it that way?" he asked tauntingly.

He began a gigantic loop and ended up above me. He turned it into a dive and came straight for me, I got out of the way with even less time to spare than he had had. Our game went on for nearly an hour. Eventually we found ourselves above the castle.

We realized how high we were and decided to stop. We found a flat portion of the roof and descended to sit on it to catch our breaths. There we rested until I noticed a light over the Forbidden Forest.

It kept blinking, as if it were a signal or someone kept walking in front of it. I pointed it out to James and he agreed we should investigate. This time we went slowly, so we wouldn't make any noise. We came to a stop above a clearing where two wizards were standing a fire in between them. One of them was pacing, accounting for the blinking. They seemed to be in heated discussion.

I was too scared to move, and James seemed to share my feelings. One of the wizards dipped a flask into a cauldron suspended above the fire that I hadn't noticed earlier and handed it to the other. An argument must have broken out because suddenly they both had their wands out. They each started throwing curses at each other in silence. It almost seemed as if they were in a very fast and complex dance.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" cried the wizard who had been pacing. A jet of blinding green light came from his wand and hit his opponent in the chest. The wizard fell to the ground without a scream. James gasped and the winner looked up and spotted us.

"Who're you?" he seemed surprised, but not angry.

I looked at James, and then bolted, before the wizard could curse me as well. James and I sped, side by side, towards the castle. We stuffed the brooms back in their place and ran back to the castle, no longer worrying about secrecy.

In the entrance hall we split ways, him taking the Great Staircase and me descending into the dungeon. I opened the room to my dorm without being careful this time and was greeted with Philip's questioning and sleepy stare.

"Where'r you?" he questioned, rubbing his eye.

"I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk," I said.

"Jus' so long as you're careful not to get caught," he said, lying back down.

I layed on my bed without changing, I didn't even pull the covers over me. All night I just couldn't get what I'd seen out of my head. Somehow, I knew that the cursed wizard had been killed, even though I didn't recognize the spell that had hit him.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Aurors

In the morning I went down to breakfast with the intention of meeting James and then going straight to Professor Mcgonagall to tell her what had happened. But when I got there he wasn't there yet, so I sat down to wait. I realized how hungry I was and ate the most I had since the feast at the beginning of the year.

So I didn't notice when James walked in. I only noticed when he threw that morning's _Daily Prophet_ down on my plate and sat down next to me. On the front page was a picture of a wizard lying face down on the ground next to a roaring fire. The headline read "Apothecary Owner Murdered in the Forbidden Forest"

I stared at James with an open mouth. He gestured for me to read the article

Yesterday night an anonymous Hogwarts Professor called the Auror office at the Ministry of Magic to report a disturbance in the Forbidden Forest. They said that they had spotted flashing lights deep in the forest from their office and suspected that there was a deadly duel going on. The professor then went to investigate himself. On his way he spotted two shapes flying overhead, one of them wearing a striking pink robe. They decided that the duel was more pressing and hurried on. However, when he got there there was only one wizard lying face-down on the ground, dead. The wizard was lying next to boiling cauldron full of what aurors ascertained to be an extremely pure imperius potion. An imperius potion is highly preferable to the imperius curse for dark wizards because it is much more potent, and lasts longer. The potion, of course, is as illegal as the curse and is extremely difficult to brew. The auror office is heading an investigation into the matter, but has found nothing yet. If you have any information please contact the Auror Office immediately.

"What are imperius curses and potions good for?" I asked James.

"They allow you to have full control over the victim's body," he explained. "They're very good for spies and such."

"And what's an auror?" I continued.

"Kind of like wizard police," James said. "They're extremely well they can't find anything the murderer must be an extremely powerful dark wizard."

"Well then we have to tell them," I said.

"Right, but not the teachers," James said. "We'll send a school owl directly to the Auror Office. If we sent one of ours it would be identified."

Immediately after breakfast we went to the owlery and wrote to the Auror Office, explaining what we had seen. But we kept it anonymous in case they contacted the school. We tied it to a school owl, much to the displeasure of our personal owls, and watched it until it had disappeared over the horizon.

The Scamander twins and us tried to practice charms that afternoon, but James and I were too distracted. We had decided to tell the twins about it, but they didn't seem bothered. "It's probably just a guy wanting to embarrass his friends or something," they said.

On Monday morning during transfiguration while I was struggling to change a porcupine quill into an owl feather, a man I had never seen before entered the room. He whispered to the professor, who instructed me to go with the man. He had untidy black hair, round glasses, and a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Something seemed familiar about him to me.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked me.

"No," I admitted.

"Harry Potter," he responded. "I'm here regarding the owl you and your friend sent the Auror Office yesterday. I am also James' father." He reached out to shake my hand.

"We sent that letter anonymously," I said.

"And I can recognize my son's handwriting," Harry said.

We reached a gargoyle and stopped, facing it. "Fizzing Whizbees!" Harry declared. The gargoyle shuffled to the side, revealing a concealed spiral staircase. I followed the auror up, and through the door at the top. Inside Professor Mcgonagall, James, and another wizard I didn't recognize were waiting for me.

The wizard got up and shook my hand. "I'm Ron Weasley, an auror, and James' uncle." I gave a fake smile and when Ron had turned around I gave James a furious look for not realizing his father could recognize his handwriting.

I sat down in one of the four chairs opposite Professor Mcgonagall's desk.

"So," Harry said. "You are sure of what you saw?"

"Yes," James and I said in unison.

"A wizard, not a witch, was handed a flask containing the potion in the cauldron. The two wizards had a duel, which the one who received the potion won. At that point one of gasped and he looked up to spot you. You then flew back to the castle as fast as you could, put the brooms in the cupboard, and rushed back to your common rooms." Harry recounted the story.

"Right," we confirmed.

"Does anybody else now what you saw other than those in this room?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," James replied. "Lorcan and Lysander."

"Are there any details you may have overlooked?" Harry asked.

I thought for a moment and shook my head no. James did the same. "Alright, you know who to contact if you find out anything else. Professor, they're all yours." The two aurors walked out of the room and closed the door behind them.

"Under normal circumstances I would take fifty points from each of your houses and one detention a week until Christmas vacation," she informed us sternly. "However, because of your misdemeanor the Ministry has useful information. They have requested that I not punish you at all. Of course I cannot honor that request. Ten points will be taken from each of your houses, and you will each serve one detention. An owl will be sent informing you of when and where. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, Professor," I said, hoping to stay on her good side. James grunted his agreement as we walked out the door. Harry was waiting for us. "You know when I got caught sneaking around at night in my first year I got fifty points taken from Gryffindor. And because I had Ron with me that made it a hundred. You two are lucky to get off with ten points each and a detention."

"Thanks for telling her not to punish us, Dad," James said.

"You're welcome," he replied as we came to a fork in the corridor. "Now I have to get back to the office, see ya later." He ruffled James' hair and walked down the left corridor. To get back to transfiguration I had to right, and James had to go the Herbology, also right.

"What were thinking?" I asked James.

"What?" he asked, seemingly bewildered.

"Writing that letter yourself when you knew your dad was an auror."

"Well somebody had to write," he pointed out defensively.

"Yes," I agreed. "And that person, was me." I replied scathingly.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Owls

Life went on like normal for awhile, and then Quidditch began. The first match of the year was Slytherin vs Gryffindor. The two houses were currently tied in points for the House Cup, so there was a lot of pressure on both sides. Not to mention that this was the most highly anticipated match of the year, as these were the two houses with the best teams.  
I didn't really know anybody playing, but I still felt the excitement as the rest of the school did. James, Lorcan, Lysander and I found top seats to watch the game from.  
"Did we tell you?" The twins asked, speaking in unison as always. "We worked out the odds of each team winning the European Cup! The Chudley Cannons are definitely going to win, ten to one odds in their favor. Not so closely followed by the Pride of Portree with one to twenty odds, not in their favor."  
"I still say you're crazy," James said.  
"Well you won't after we've won all the galleons our betting money will get us," they said with glee. "We're betting as much as we can on each match so that by the end, we should have around a thousand galleons."  
I almost replied, telling them to be careful and only bet nine tenths of it in case they were wrong, but just then the players walked out onto the field. Through my binoculars I saw that most of them had Nimbus 3000s, but some had Cleansweep 13s. Each broom was beautiful, but I knew from my reading that the Nimbus was ten miles per hour faster.  
The game began and my heart leapt as I began to witness my first Quidditch match. It was as fast moving as everyone described. Within the first five minutes one person had been hit with a bludger and Slytherin was up twenty points. I was cheering and James was looking grim. On the other side of the stadium I saw a duel break out between two students supporting different teams. By the time a teacher got there to intervene that entire section of the stands was on fire.  
The entire crowd groaned as a bludger hit the Gryffindor keeper in the stomach and knocked him through the goal hoop. Half an hour later there was still no sign of the snitch and the teams were tied at fifty. I heard a strange noise coming from somewhere. I looked around and still didn't see anything.  
People all around me were pointing up. Hundreds of owls were circling the pitch. Some of the players had even stopped moving to watch them. They seemed to hang in the sky for a minute. Then, as if they were one giant organism, they all rushed in at once. They began pecking and dive bombing the players on both sides. Hexes began to shoot from the crowd and birds began falling from the sky. Those who weren't hexing them were attempting to slow their descent.  
"I'll shoot, you slow them," I instructed James. He hesitated, as if considering taking orders from me, and then began trying levitation charms on the falling owls. I was hitting them knockback jinxes.  
The problem was they were so close to the players that it seemed just as many of them were being hit as owls. Two Slytherins even fell off their brooms. Finally the last owl was cleared from the sky. The ground was littered with the large birds of all different sizes and colors. A few students and teachers were walking around and examining them for broken wings and such. I noticed my owl, lying between a barn and a screech owl, and for some reason felt disappointed in him.  
As if nothing had happened at all, the game resumed. The Gryffindor team had six players left, the Slytherins had only five. It seemed that the snitch wanted to end the game after that and began flitting very obviously around. Both seekers noticed it and flew towards it. They were flying side by side, and very obviously cobbing each other. Still the referee didn't blow her whistle. And then they each stopped, dead in the air.  
I focused my binoculars on them, each was holding onto one of the snitch's wings and trying to pry it from the other's grasp. The referee blew her whistle. "The snitch has been caught by both seekers simultaneously. As far as I know, this is unprecedented. One hundred and fifty points to each time!" she declared. "It's a tie, 210 to 210!"  
Nobody seemed very happy about this. There was no cheering, no victory laps around the pitch, no sparks sent up by wands. The teams landed on the ground, careful to avoid the owls, and shook hands morosely with each other as the crowd filed out.

We weren't allowed to send owls for a few days while Professor Scamander (the male one) examined every single owl in the owlery. When he couldn't find anything wrong with them the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures came and also found nothing wrong.  
When we were allowed to send letters again I went to the owlery, along with about half the school, to send a letter home, assuring my parents that everything was alright.  
"Oi!" I said, trying to find my owl. "Owl! Where are you?"  
"Your owl's name is Owl?" James asked snidely.  
"No, I just couldn't think of a name for it and I need to call him something," I explained.  
"Well you be careful," he warned. "These owls aren't like normal ones, they stick to what you call them. My mom forcibly named my uncle's owl Pigwidgeon just by calling it Pigwidgeon over and over."  
"Crap," I whispered to myself, knowing that it was already too late. I finally found Owl and tied the letter to his foot, then promptly threw him out the window and watched him fly away.

The next morning Owl flew in to meet me at breakfast. I hadn't expected a reply so quickly, but was pleased nonetheless. He stretched out his leg for me to untie the note, which I did quickly. After giving him a piece of my french toast he took flight again.  
"Wait!" I cried as I realized the letter was the one I had sent my parents yesterday. There weren't even any marks on it. "_Revelio_," I said, tapping the paper with my wand, but nothing appeared.  
"Did you get the same note you sent your parents yesterday too?" Philip asked.  
"Yeah," I said slowly, trying to think what could be wrong with Owl.  
"It's happening all over the school," Philip informed me. "Not a single student I've spoken with had received mail other than the Daily Prophet. And those hardly count as they come on private owls."  
Lessons were hard to get through, all I could think about was the owl's strange behavior. Not even the teachers seemed to be interested in teaching. I was so distracted I let my antidote potion overheat and blow a hole through my cauldron.

**Thank you for reading and please leave insults, compliments, constructive criticism and comments in the form of a review**


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